POSTCARD FROM GOD KNOWS WHERE?

Davey’s on the road again … wearing women’s clothes again …

Okay, so that’s a bit random and I’ll come back to this in a minute, but first … breaking news … drumroll … THE BOOK!

Chicos, I’m excited … very excited, because my first novel, Losing The Plot is going to be published at the end of July. There’s a book launch/lunch arranged in Marbella for the first of August, but don’t panic if you can’t make it; my marketing team are working on further UK dates for launches. The only problem with this is that I’m expected to turn up.

“I’ll have TEN copies of Losing The Plot, please!

I’ve not got a publication date nailed down yet, but don’t worry, because the moment I do, you will be the first to know.

And armed with this information, you can trot off to your nearest bookshop, buy or order a copy, or alternatively click on the ubiquitous Amazon to purchase.

Of course, to buy ten copies will vastly enhance your appreciation, but it’s probably not a great idea to buy one as an early Christmas present (heck … have I just mentioned Christmas in July?) for great Auntie Dolly unless you want her to choke on her false teeth at the festive dinner table.

So what’s it about?

If you’ve not already done so, you can read the blurb (above) and this tells you pretty much everything you need to know.

But there’s been a bit of brainstorming (sorry … you can’t call it brainstorming any more because this smacks of epilepsy, and so this process is now referred to as ‘idea showers’) and my editors, marketing team and me have agreed to describe the genre thus: ‘a darkly humorous, adult fiction bloke lit thriller’.

There – that just about nails it. If you’re not happy with that, we can add to the mix a dollop of action/adventure and crime fiction.

I’m not really supposed to post this on social media because my marketing team are about to roll up their sleeves and get down to doing this properly, but I’m as excited as a puppy who has just discovered he can lick his own testicles, so what the heck?

So, back to the tag line.

I write this from the poop deck of the Pont Aven, sailing majestically across a placid Bay of Biscay towards Santander.

We are sailing … we are sailing

From there, it’s a two-hour drive down to Burgos where we overnight, followed by an eight-hour slog back to Marbella.

The main difference between an eight-hour slog on Spanish roads and an eight-hour slog on English roads is that is Spain you actually go somewhere, whereas in England you spend countless hours locked into mile upon mile of fifty miles per hour limited stretches of road works where no work is actually taking place. That is, if you’re moving at all.

My itinerary last week was as follows: Saturday, I flew back to Wroclaw from Spain (this should have happened on Friday but a minor mishap resulted in me missing the flight). Monday, we drove to Kassel … Tuesday we reached Calais … Wednesday and Thursday saw us staying with old friends in the Manchester region … and following the now somewhat clichéd eight-hour slog, on the Friday we finally reached Devon … Sunday we drove the short leg to Plymouth and, hey-ho, with a spirit of adventure, here we are sailing, we are sailing …

Amigos, the book is almost here, the next one, Saving Dave is now receiving my full attention now that Losing The Plot has been put to bed, the sun is shining and the beach is beckoning.

Hasta pronto, chicos!

Care to share?
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2 Responses to POSTCARD FROM GOD KNOWS WHERE?

  1. Mark Caithness says:

    Can’t wait to read the finished article. Well done – don’t know how you find the time with such a hectic life!
    Looking forward to catching up.
    Spike

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